Ode to a Wine Glass

I pride myself on not being attached to stuff.  If there was a fire, I've always assumed that once my family and dog are out of the house, I would be torn between grabbing my jewelry box and tossing a few handfuls of fiction literature out the window.  The other stuff?  Not so much.

I mean, we are about to move, and I hate that there is so much stuff.  I pack box after box of weighty tomes, clothes, dishes, theatre props, desk supplies, computer equipment... you name it.  And I keep thinking, wow, I have hardly even touched the stuff I use on a daily basis.  I am purging, trust me.  I have filled the dumpster a dozen times so far, and have sold stuff, and plan to have a huge moving sale.  I expect the movers (the same local company we used four years ago) to marvel at the empty(ish) house...

But, apparently, I am a liar.

I have this bad habit of not washing my wine glasses.  I let the counter get crowded with three or four well rinsed but unwashed glasses.  I don't want to have anything else in the drainboard when I wash them--I've broken a glass or two that way, and hate cleaning up the broken glass.  So, I had five glasses waiting to be cleaned, and finally had an empty drainboard.

Two were white wine glasses with twisty stems that I purchased at a yard sale.  The other three were part of a set of four purchased by Wine Friend, as a gift for my birthday.  They are lovely Shiraz glasses by Riedel.  Three years ago, I would have just loved that someone bought me elegant wine glasses (and from Williams Sonoma!), but being a little more educated now, I recognize the care with which these glasses were chosen.  He's been bringing wine out for almost two years now, and knows not only on what I like, but what kinds of wine I tend to  purchase for myself.  He also knew that I'd been drinking wine out of glasses that don't do justice to them.  (You don't have to be a wine snob to recognize that the shape of a glass can enhance or distract.)  It probably wasn't a difficult purchase, but it showed that he knew what I liked and would appreciate, and chose to purchase it for me.

I love these glasses, I am sure you can tell.  But I didn't know I loved them until I broke one last night while washing it.  For a shocked moment, I looked at the soapy broken glass.  And then I began to weep.  Not just cry a little.  Weep.  The Husband helped me gather the broken pieces, and offered to finish up for me.  I went upstairs, sat on the floor by my bed, and just wept.

It's just stuff, right?  I still have three, right?  It's just a fucking wine glass, right?

I pride myself on being practical.  Why buy nice clothes if they are just going to be out of fashion in two years? (investment or quirky pieces, it all comes from Target or is on sale.)  Why buy a new car if my Honda Civic is still working and likely to continue working as long as I maintain it (mileage over 165K!)?  Why buy a new book if I can just check it out at the library or borrow it from a friend to see if I like the author enough to spend money on it? (Sookie Stackhouse novels, yes.  "Shades of Grey", god no...)

But I like wine.  I don't buy rotgut because I don't like it.  Not being independently wealthy, I won't buy bottles of wine that are over $20 unless there is a sale, and when I find something I like and is reasonably priced, I may buy several bottles more.  I am no oenophile, but I am semi-literate.  Those glasses were a gift from someone vastly more educated in wine than I am, selected to help me enjoy what I do drink at home.

Wine Friend visited Saturday night, and the three of us were sitting around discussing life, the universe, and everything.  And I said that this world is pretty terrible, and that even though I recognized the misery in the world, I felt like I was just a spoiled housewife who contributed nothing to make it better.  And Wine Friend shot me down, saying that Husband and the Boy would argue, and that I bring joy to those around me, and to the arts community, and to him.

Sober, I can agree with that assessment.  I do bring joy to many people around me.  I cannot save the world perhaps, but I do what I can to bring light to the world around me.  I spend countless hours helping to organize a tour of artists studios, which helps the local economy, brings artists and the community together, and educates the public about the arts in general.  The visual arts produce material objects that please people, and serve a purpose.  Every morning I drink my coffee from mugs produced by local potters.  My walls are covered in visual art that pleases me.

Appreciating a few material objects is not embracing materialism--there is a middle ground that I have never really recognized.  Yes, I absolutely object to the endless consumerism of modern life-- and am frustrated with the amount of stuff that we all seem driven to acquire.  I still have no desire to continue to upgrade just because I can.

But I do have a few items in my possession that genuinely make me happy.  My hardcover edition of "The Sun Also Rises" was bound with the cover on upside down.  When I was fifteen, I took it to Mexico and read while imagining myself as a glamorous ex-pat in another country.  My engagement ring is lovely and was designed especially for me by the Husband, who was instructed to get a ring that I couldn't hurt myself with.  He did that AND recycled diamonds-- very cool ring, and cool of him to do it.  I like the story almost as much as the ring.  So surely I can recognize that joy can come from an object that holds special meaning to me.

Even a wine glass given to me by a good friend.

God (or whomever) loves to make a liar out of me

Ha ha, so remember when I said no more acting until I was done with my book? That very week, I was approached to fill out an incomplete cast in one of the One Acts... and then as soon as that was done, I got begged to fill out another incomplete cast... for the very show that made me realize I needed to get serious. Did I say no? I sure tried. Shit.

But, now to brag a bit about how successful a month as an I artist I have

had. First, the visual art, the sculpture I mentioned awhile back, SOLD!!! And apparently, there have been lots of inquiries about it, people disappointed that it sold already, and wanting to know if I make them regularly. Hilarious. Take a look at it. I LOVE how a snarky piece about women being slaves to fashion, featuring a freaking HANGING... is in demand. Oh, and that red dot? That would be the SOLD sign...

And, the OAP festival went really well for me as a director. One of my plays was awarded the Golden Cow (yeah, really!) for Best Production, my lead actress was named Best Performer, AND the other script I directed won Best Script. So, my script didn't win anything, but I am over it. The production left quite a lot to be desired-- the actors were kinda all over the place... Oh well.

Now, I am winding down from the invasion of family, and should be able to dive back into writing, especially once school begins. I am so close to being done I can TASTE it...

Bad, Naughty February!

February wasn't a good month for my Plan, apparently.

I didn't walk regularly. Now, there were some weather issues, and health issues, but still. I took no recharge breaks either. And, I have gone no further in figuring out what I am NOT going to do than setting a date for either resigning from my board or going inactive (June!).

However, I am pleased to report that I did finally finish the body of the book, and even added a prologue/short story. I don't know if the short story will be able to stand alone, but I am pondering it. Is there editing to do? You bet. I am also having to figure out some formatting issues. I plan to read the whole thing aloud in my final edit, before I get copies to my peer reviewers. I think I have them all picked out.

Additionally, I have a trip planned to Texas for the middle of the month. I need to see my grandmother. It has been four years since I last saw her, and I haven't visited my folks in about as long... I will also be seeing some high school and college classmates during the trip, which will be cool. It will also be a bit weird, methinks.

Let's see, anything else to report. Oh, yes, the 10-minutes one act play festival. I was asked by my boss if I would submit a script for this festival, and of course I said yes. I found out yesterday that submitting a script would mean not acting in any of the plays; and that it all has to be 'family friendly'... whatever the hell that means.

Rant time! Yay!!! I am so FREAKING sick of 'family friendly' theatre in this county. WHY does everything have to be family geared? Are adults second class citizens? I like dark humor, and language, and 'adult situations'... but can I see that on a stage in this county? NOT BLOODY LIKELY.... And it is not just the theatres.... it is everywhere... I cannot TELL you how many times I have gone to my favorite bar, after nine PM, and found CHILDREN there with their parents!!!!

I have reviewed grants for arts funding for the last five years. There are a handful of theatre companies that apply for funding.... and in their FREAKING mission statements they state 'wholesome, family friendly entertainment.' Guess how many list 'morally suspect, adult themed entertainment'.... NONE.

Either I am so far out the norm that I am definitely going to hell, or there is an UNTAPPED market in this county. I hosted a play reading (Anti-Valentine's Day was the theme), and it was an afternoon of Christopher Durang one-acts. We all had fun.

Maybe I should just create my own theatre company, and put in the mission statement: To foster an irreverent, mildly salacious culture and entertain grownups.

Okay, rant mostly done. Now I need to look up a website for creating voodoo dolls before writing my 'family friendly' script.... with zombies....

Artistic Supporter

It has been awhile since I posted. When last I posted, Africa had only fallen partway into chaos...

I just spent DAYS helping to jury a studio tour. It is a really cool event, and I am serving my second year on the planning committee. This is one of my volunteer roles in the community. Today, I estimated my total hours spent on this committee, and I estimated around 110 hours over the course of the event. That is a lot of hours, for no pay.

My husband asked me this evening, as I prepared for an art modeling gig, why I enjoy doing it. I spent five minutes attempting to answer his question, and finally had to give up. I thought about it as I sat still and said nothing for twenty minute blocks tonight.

I think I like art modeling for the same reason I like the studio tour. I cannot be an artist, so I am an artistic supporter. Yes, I am an artist- in performing and literary arts. (Okay, maybe it is an arrogant stretch to claim literary artist yet.) But, that is not quite what I mean.

I have always loved visual art. I remember starving myself for a 24 hour period so I could go look at art the way Hemingway did in A Moveable Feast. Granted, he was starving for real when he went to the Louvre, and I was a silly 16 year old girl looking at a summer college art show. I spend birthday money on art, and acting money, and sometimes, the Husband's money.... I attend art show openings whenever I can, and freely admit to spending part of a girl's weekend away in DC... at the Freer Gallery.

I sketch. I took a costume design class in college, and learned most of the art techniques I possess in that class. I learned how to render a human figure, mix colors, and draw clothing. It was a good class. I sketch the clothing I try to describe in my writing, and I often sketch the costumes for my theatre classes. I spent a few years (pre-baby) carrying around a pad and pencils, sketching nature, people, and objects. I would love to take a drawing class.

I dabble, let's be honest. I like it, but there are only so many things a girl can tackle, and tackle well. The last several days, I spent time discussing various artists' work with two women who ARE artists. I can see a piece of pottery and know that I like it. These ladies can look at it, and understand the skill involved, the process used, how it was glazed, if mistakes were made, etc. I learned just from listening to their critiques. And I learn while art modeling for open sessions and classes. The artists discuss their work, both the artistic and the business aspects. The teachers discuss choices or mistakes their students make, and work with them to improve their craft.

I just sit there, quiet, not moving... but listening. And I love it. Even now, as I sit here with my neck stiff and sore, with cosmetics still on my face, I can honestly admit that I might do it for free. If the right artist asked, if the opportunity was interesting enough, I probably would...

...well, unless it was nude modeling. Yeah, I don't do that, even for a paycheck.

Boards and Zombies

So, I am an arts volunteer. I also serve on a board. I do a lot of work. I attend lots of meetings. I write and review grants for arts organizations. I read and answer (and ignore) lots of emails regarding the arts. Hell, I have even lobbied for the arts. I feel good for volunteering in my community, and for putting my skills and knowledge to good use. After all, we have no souls without the arts.

See, that explains a lot about me. I believe that without the arts, we are just mindless zombies. And, for those of you who think the arts are just opera and indecipherable paintings... think about your day.

Listen to the radio? The music you listen to is art. Oh, you only listen to the news? Well, who the &#$@ do you think creates the background music, or designs the ads that PAY for the news? Artists. Who reads the news? People whose voice IS their art.

Oh, so you don't listen to the radio? Watch television or films? Art! Read magazines? Books? Oh, don't waste time with that stuff? Well, do you think the guys who designed your computer were only thinking function? They were also thinking about making something that you might actually want to look at when it was not on.

Anyway... I could go on and on... and I think kinda just did.

This rant is to remind myself why I keep working on it. I am an artist. I support artists. I have to remind myself that what I am doing is worthy of my efforts. And I have to remind myself that the show must go on.

I begin to wonder, however... perhaps the show will go on without me.

I have been serving for almost six years on this arts council. I am tired. There has been so much change. There has been unpleasantness. It hasn't always been fun. My term on the board ends in October... and I want to finish it. The end is in sight.

But, will I crawl back under my log at that point? I didn't grow up with volunteerism. As I am a lapsed Catholic, the guilt to give to others, to be selfless, is strong. This is my service.

However, this is the year of deciding what I am NOT gonna do, remember? Do I finish my term, and call it even? Do I continue volunteering in the arts community, or allow myself to get shangai'ed into another board? This weighs on me.

I have decisions to make. If I am only doing this for duty, then I have become a zombie in spite of myself. And, just now, as I write this and postpone doing some arts volunteer related work, I kinda feel like this. Both the zombie... and the poor bloke running from the zombie.

So, this zombie sadly signs off, to go eat some brains... the brains being my own. Sigh.

(wah wah wah, poor little whiney-butt)